CHAPTER 292: CHAPTER 292 LYLA

Vanessa pointed toward a metal door at the far end. "You can bathe in there and change your clothes," she said softly, her voice still carrying a trace of relief.

Liam nodded, running a hand slowly through his messy, soot-streaked hair. "Thanks," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and tired. He didn’t even try to smile there was no strength left for that right now. His fingers tangled in the grimy strands of his hair for a second before he dropped his hand and started walking toward the door she had pointed at.

When he got there, he pushed the door open with one hand, and the first thing that caught his eye was a tall mirror propped up against the wall. It wasn’t fancy or mounted just leaning there, like it was dragged in and forgotten. Still, it reflected the entire room, and when Liam stepped fully inside and shut the door behind him, his eyes locked onto his own reflection.

He froze.

For a second, he didn’t even recognize the person staring back at him.

His skin was blackened with soot and smoke, especially around his neck and jawline. His hair, once thick and soft, now stuck out in wild, stiff tufts, coated in ash and grime. His shirt was torn at the collar, and one sleeve was hanging by threads. There were faint scratches and smears of blood along his arms. He looked like someone who had been pulled out of hell.

No wonder people were staring at him earlier when he went out to get food and clothes. No wonder the woman at the counter looked so uncomfortable, like she didn’t want him standing too close. He knew he wasn’t exactly clean, but this... this was a different level.

"Jesus..." he whispered to himself, taking a slow step closer to the mirror, examining his face. His lips were cracked, and there was even soot lining the edges of his eyelids. It was a wonder Vanessa hugged him without restraint.

With a long exhale, Liam began peeling the ruined clothes off his body, piece by piece. He tossed the shirt into a small corner of the bathroom, then kicked off his boots and the rest of his gear.

He folded the clean clothes and placed them neatly on the flat surface just in front of the mirror. There was no shelf, just a wooden stool, but it did the job. Then he stepped into the shower, twisting the handle.

Fifteen minutes later, Liam stepped out of the shower, wiping the steam off the mirror with a towel. His reflection looked more like him now, clean, sharp-eyed, and alive. He quickly dressed up.

He stepped out of the bathroom quietly, towel in hand, his damp hair sticking slightly to his forehead.

Vanessa was sitting on the a chair her laptop balanced on her thighs. Her brows were furrowed in focus as she typed quickly, pausing only to squint at the screen and make adjustments. She didn’t even notice Liam approaching.

He moved silently behind her, stopping just a step away. For a moment, he just stood there, watching. The glow of the screen reflected faintly on her face. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes locked on whatever footage she was analyzing.

She was going through the surveillance again, he could see it clearly. A blurry black-and-white video feed played back slowly as she zoomed in and out, rewinding and advancing frame by frame.

She suddenly leaned in closer, squinting at a specific part of the video.

Then her brows furrowed sharply.

She started to zoom in.

But just as she was about to zoom out again, Liam spoke. "Wait. Stop there."

Vanessa jumped in her seat, hands freezing over the keyboard. She twisted her neck sharply, eyes wide with surprise. "Shit... I didn’t even hear you come out," she said breathlessly, pressing a hand to her chest.

Liam didn’t reply right away. He pointed at the screen. "Go back. Zoom in on that guy’s hand. Right there."

Vanessa blinked but followed his instruction. She scrubbed back a few frames and zoomed in on the man Liam was pointing at.

As she focused in on the man’s arm, something came into view a tattoo. Faint but visible.

It was a bird.

A small, black silhouette of a bird mid-flight, wings stretched wide.

Liam stared at it, eyes narrowing. Something about it clicked in his mind, like a puzzle piece falling into place. He had seen that same design not long ago... and not just anywhere.

His breath caught.

"Clark had the same tattoo," he said, more to himself than to her.

Vanessa blinked again and leaned closer to the screen, her fingers flying across the keyboard to enhance the zoom. "Wait... you’re right. That’s exactly the same tattoo he has on his arm."

She turned toward Liam slowly, her voice quiet but filled with unease. "You think... Clark is part of the Crimson Hand too?"

Liam didn’t answer right away. He stared at the image a moment longer, then turned to her, his voice low. "I didn’t even know who Clark was until last night. Never met the guy before."

He looked at her more directly now. "Tell me, Vanessa... what’s your relationship with Clark? How do you know him?"

She looked up at him, startled by the sudden shift in tone.

Vanessa let out a soft sigh, her fingers finally still on the keyboard. Then she closed the laptop and slowly turned the chair around to face Liam. The sound of the old chair’s creaking echoed slightly in the abandoned factory’s hollow silence.

"You remember when I told you I ran away a few years ago, right?" she asked, her voice quieter now, more serious.

Liam gave a slow nod. "Yeah... I remember."

"Well..." Vanessa leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. "Where I ended up... that’s where I met Clark. He was serving in the military at the time. Just on leave, I think. He happened to live next door."

Liam stayed silent, waiting as she continued.

"He had a younger sister. Lyla. She was about my age... We got close really fast. She became my best friend." Vanessa smiled for just a second, a small, bittersweet expression. "And because of her, I started spending time with Clark too. He was around a lot."

Then she stopped. Her lips pressed together tightly, and her gaze dropped to the floor like she suddenly regretted bringing it up at all.

Liam tilted his head slightly. "Were you two dating?"

Vanessa shook her head almost instantly. "No. We weren’t. But..." she hesitated, "I knew he liked me."

"You liked him too?"

"A little," she admitted, eyes flicking up to meet his for a brief second. "But it wasn’t really because of him. I think it was just the way he treated Lyla. He was protective, responsible... I respected that. And it was easy to mistake that respect for something else." She leaned back. "But no. We weren’t anything serious. Not even close."

Liam frowned. "So then why the hell did he almost kill you? Doesn’t add up if you guys were on good terms like that."

Vanessa’s expression changed. Her jaw tightened. The softness in her face disappeared.

"Because..." she said slowly, "I did something I wasn’t supposed to."

Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What did you do?"

Vanessa looked away for a second, as if weighing whether to say it at all. Then she turned back to him.

"One evening, I was walking home with Lyla. We were just chatting, laughing about something stupid... and we saw it happening across the street. This old woman, probably in her seventies, was being cornered. Four guys were trying to take her bag. One of them had a knife."

Liam’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

"It wasn’t a rare thing in that neighborhood," Vanessa continued. "People didn’t interfere. They just... kept walking. Pretended they didn’t see anything."

"But you didn’t."

"No," she said, voice flat now. "I didn’t."